


Week Two Challenge: The Beast Within

by dizzzylu



Series: Mating Games: The Return [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Knotting Dildos, M/M, POV Derek, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2408507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzzylu/pseuds/dizzzylu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You should be getting a package soon."</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"What kind of package?"</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>"The kind I don't want my dad to find?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Week Two Challenge: The Beast Within

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: _There is a beast inside all of us. Your challenge this week is to set it free! Bring me your knotting; your scenting; your clawing, scratching, and biting; your feral!wolves and heat cycles; your alpha and beta forms; your kanima scales and kitsune tails; your glowing eyes and your razor-sharp claws! Let the beast inside come out to play!_
> 
> I tried to be a little different. Hopefully it worked.

"You should be getting a package soon," Stiles says to the ceiling, a little breathless, still. 

Derek rolls into him and smears his palm through the mess on Stiles' stomach. "What kind of package?"

Stiles squints an eye. "The kind I don't want my dad to find?"

 _Oh_.

"Promise you won't open it until Friday?" Stiles continues, less wheezy. He draws Derek's finger up to his mouth and licks along the length, slow. 

Derek's eyes go blurry. "Yeah. Okay."

: : :

It comes two days later, the box plain and slim, the return address one Derek doesn't recognize. It's not the first toy they've bought, and it won't be the last, but it's the first one they haven't picked out together.

He tucks it under the bed, beside the box with the rest of their stash, but for the next three days, it's like the Tell-Tale Heart every night when he goes to sleep; knowing the box is under his bed with no clue what's inside. He trusts Stiles, almost to a fault, but Derek's curiosity is insatiable. 

Seems Stiles has rubbed off on him in more ways than one.

By Friday, he wants to crawl out of his skin with the need to know. Of course, Fridays are game night and Derek has a standing appointment with the sheriff and Mrs McCall in the bleachers. Stiles always tells Derek he doesn't have to go, but the way his face lights up tells Derek otherwise, and it feels good, being the one to make Stiles that happy. Being able to make _anyone_ that happy.

: : :

After the game, and celebratory dinner at Jake's, Stiles somehow beats Derek back to Derek's apartment and has himself settled on the sofa with the package in his lap. It's open, the shredded packing paper scattered across the floor, Stiles gazing down at it with a mix of reverence and glee. It only ratchets up Derek's curiosity and he takes a step forward. Except Stiles catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and slams the lid shut.

"I need to explain," he says, his eyes turning panicky and Derek's everything freezes. Including, he's pretty sure, his heart. Stiles continues without noticing.

"Remember that first time we fucked, when you finally let me get my hands on your dick, and I was able to prove the knot thing was a myth?"

Derek drops onto the couch and muffles his, "yes," into both his hands. There's no way he could forget Stiles' disappointment from that night. How hard he tried to cover it. 

"Well, it took me awhile, but I finally found something." The sofa creaks as he leans forward and then there's the soft weight of something in Derek's lap. He drags his hands down his face and finds himself staring at a red and yellow dildo that sort of reminds him of the Iron Man suit. Clearly, Stiles has too much influence over Derek's pop culture diet. Despite that, the dildo looks intriguing, with its pointed tip and gill-like ridges on either side. The main attraction of it, Derek assumes, is the swelling at the base. Not big, but thicker than Derek's dick, probably. Derek takes it out of the box and wraps his hand around the knot, giving it a squeeze.

"I started out small," Stiles says, drawing Derek's attention back to himself. He's all nerves, now, his hands trying to do his talking for him, his leg bouncing. "Just in case. The biggest they had was ten and a half. I—I want to come, not tear myself apart." He takes the dildo from Derek and strokes it with his thumb, from base to tip, his eyes going dark. "If you don't want to, I can—"

"No," Derek says immediately. "I want to." 

Derek isn't sure what happens to his clothes after that. All he knows is Stiles leading him to the bed still smelling of grass and soap and french fries. His dick is hard, bobbing against his stomach as Stiles falls to the bed, and the spread of his legs seems obscene. Derek follows him down, trying to take his time, but Stiles is eager, has known about this longer than Derek has, and keeps squeezing Derek's hips with his knees.

"Derek c'mon," he croons, nipping at Derek's chin. "You can take it as slow as you want, after, but I can't wait. Please," he begs, pushing the lube into Derek's hand, "don't make me wait."

It takes no time at all for Derek to finger Stiles open, for him to slick on the condom, to start teasing Stiles with the pointed tip.

"Ah, _christ_ ," Stiles wheezes. "Talk about ribbed for my pleasure. You gotta you let me use this on you. Those ridges feel amazing."

Derek can't feel it, but the greedy clutch of Stiles' hole around the lurid red and gold is pretty amazing, too. He wants to get his mouth of Stiles' drooling dick, but can't stop watching the slick in and out, Stiles' heaving chest and twitching thighs.

Stiles groans when Derek starts to press a little deeper, letting Stiles feel the swell of the knot. A hand lands on Derek's shoulder and squeezes, almost too tight, and Stiles grits out, "Do it. I want you to."

Derek works it in with a series of shallow thrusts and twists. Stiles shudders, every so often, but he takes it like a champ, his own hips working until the thickest part of the knot is inside him. His gasp is electric, his nails digging hard into Derek's shoulder, and Derek looks up to see his face, red and sweaty, his eyes glazed over.

"Oh my fucking god," Stiles moans. His hips haven't stilled, and Derek can see the minute movements of the dildo, rocking inside Stiles. Derek presses on the wide base with his thumb, twists it a little more, until Stiles howls, "I'm gonna c— Derek!"

Derek surges up to get his mouth on Stiles' dick and has enough time to give him two long licks. Stiles comes on a choked, shuddery breath, shooting over Derek's tongue and cheek, but the best part, for Derek, is Stiles' sweaty trembling body. Derek crawls up the length of it, griding their dicks together along the way, and covers Stiles to keep him warm, to keep him grounded.

It takes Stiles a little longer than normal to come down. To wrap his arms around Derek's neck and hold on through Derek's tiny, hitching thrusts. He aims a pleased hum at Derek's ear and shimmies his hips from side to side. "Aren't you gonna fuck me?"

"I—you—what?" Derek sputters, lost for a minute to Stiles' thudding heart. "D'you think that's a good idea?"

Stiles hums again, thighs squeezing tight around Derek's hips. "All my ideas are good ideas."

Derek could argue with that, but he doesn't. He tugs on the dildo instead, easing it out while Stiles hisses above him. The skin around Stiles' hole is red and stretched, but not raw and there isn't any blood that Derek can see or smell. Still, he's careful with the two fingers he slips inside, watching Stiles' face for any discomfort. All he sees is bliss, bitten lips, blotchy red cheeks, and a little tightening around the eyes. And then Stiles' hand is around Derek's wrist, squeezing tight.

"Human, not glass," he says, his eyes slitting open. "I want your dick in me. I'm not gonna ask again."

"So bossy," Derek murmurs as he slides his fingers out, dragging his knuckles as he goes.

Stiles gasps, "Damn right."

It doesn't take long for Derek to roll on a condom and slick himself up with lube. But Stiles gets impatient anyway and starts bumping his heels against Derek's calves, murmuring dirty encouragement. His cock is soft between his legs, but he's gotten hard before, a second time, he's still a teenager, planning for college. And this is still somewhat new.

Derek lines himself up with one hand while propping himself up with the other. It leaves Stiles' legs free to try to pull Derek it, ankles locked together under Derek's ass, but Derek is not about to rush this. Doesn't need to, doesn't want to. Not when Stiles is so open and slick, soft and warm. Derek slides home in one smooth thrust, sweet and easy.

His attention drifts to his throbbing dick, now that he's not focused on the stretch of Stiles' hole, the way it grasped the knot and didn't want to let go. Derek knows what that feels like around his own dick, the white-hot clutch of it, but imagines, now, if he did have a knot. If it was his own body Stiles had to make room for. What it would feel like, being tied, stuck together with no way out.

Stiles' nails scraping along Derek's spine bring him back to the present. To the steady rocking of his hips and the counter beat of Stiles' heels against his ass.

"Still with me, big guy?" Stiles says, teasing. He drags his nails up Derek's neck to his scalp and pulls Derek's hair in tight, messy tufts.

"You're not that good," Derek huffs back, trying to hide a grin. He increases his speed and changes the angle enough for Stiles' eyes to slam shut and his head to tip back, giving Derek exactly what he wants: miles and miles of smooth skin to mark up with his tongue and teeth and beard.

After awhile, Stiles' dick starts showing signs of life, and he sneaks a hand between them to help the proceedings along. Derek likes the drag of knuckles through his happy trail and starts grinding into it more, driving his hips into Stiles with intent. 

Stiles chuckles, low and dirty. "There's my boy," he says, his free hand still in Derek's hair, pulling harder now, to encourage Derek to bare his own neck. He no sooner does than Stiles is there, his mouth hot over Derek's pulse. He digs his teeth in hard enough to make Derek's hips falter. 

The sound of skin on skin is wet and kind of loud, but Stiles seems to love it. Makes it worse, even, by speeding up the hand on his dick, thumbing over the head and using a squirt of lube to make the glide smoother. 

Before Derek knows it, he's fighting against the grip Stiles has on his hair and sliding a hand under Stiles' back to tilt his hips down. Stiles yelps from the new angle, surprised and delighted, and comes all over himself, laughing. That's what pushes Derek over the edge hard enough for him to lose his balance and almost crush Stiles in the process. It's an effort to keep his hips moving, to get his hand out from under Stiles, _and_ fight off Stiles' greedy octopus arms, but he manages; by the hair of his fangs, he manages. Only then does he smother Stiles, again, and shove his face into the hot, damp curve of his shoulder.

Derek doesn't even think about moving until his heart starts to calm. By then, Stiles has already recovered and his hands are restless, roaming over Derek's back and across his shoulders, down his biceps and back to trace the tattoo. They drag out a shiver, trailing down Derek's spine, that turns into a full body tingle when a palm brushes over Derek's ass. That's where Stiles stops, his touch warm and gentle, fingertips teasing the cleft.

"So what do you think?" Stiles asks, aiming for nonchalant. Derek peels his cheek away from Stiles' neck to look him in the face. He's too proud of himself; his smile smug, his eyes bright, one arm bent underneath his head, but Derek thinks maybe he deserves to be. 

"I think you took it like a champ."

Stiles pinches him. With his nails. "For _you_ , smart ass. Think your delicate derriere can handle Bruiser the Fusion?"

Derek shoves himself off of Stiles with a groan and immediately misses the weight of Stiles' hand, his curious fingers. "I can't believe you named it."

"That's the name it came with, thank you very much," Stiles says. He rolls over on his side and props his head up on one hand. The other palm scrubs through the hair on Derek's chest to seek out a nipple. "You know you want him in your bu-utt," Stiles sing-songs. " _Bruiser_ wants to be in your butt. Let him be in your bu— mmph."

Laughing, Derek lunges for Stiles and shuts him up with a kiss. "You can use him," he says, laughing, to let Stiles catch his breath. "Just stop saying 'butt.'"

Stiles does. Eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> For those that are curious, this is where you can buy [Bruiser the Fusion](http://bad-dragon.com/products/bruiser). [THIS](http://cdnassets.bad-dragon.com/images/inventorytoys/2f84232b4357765965786bced679e941.JPG) is the one Stiles ordered. I think goes without saying that both links are extremely NSFW, but I said it anyway. I DO WHAT I WANT.
> 
> I'm [dizzzylu](http://dizzzylu.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.


End file.
